My cable system added MTV when it was a month old, so I didn't get to see the first video ("Video Killed the Radio Star"). Back then, MTV was a radio station with videos. It mostly played the kind of music I liked, and it was my "radio station" of choice. I liked their VJs, for the most part, and it often was my background music when I was home.
I stopped watching long before it became what it is today. I was going to try to describe that, but I realised that I don't really know, except for the fact that if you ever see a music video on MTV it's kind of a fluke.
But I taped "It Gets Better," and watched it a few days ago.
It Gets Better was hosted by Dan Savage (isn't he the guy who defined "Santorum?"), and its goal is to help LGBT teens understand that as hard as life in high school might be, it does get better. I don't know a lot of the background for this, but I think it was started as a response to the high number of teen suicides among LGBT and is something of a YouTube thing now. The link above makes it seem like this is a series, not a one-of, but I won't be looking for more episodes.
It followed a gay teen coming out to his classmates, a lesbian teen trying to reconcile with her family, and a FTM young adult looking to get married.
It does look promising, and if it saves a young life, I'm all for it, but I'm concerned that it gives a rosier picture than real life might offer. I understand that showing a teen come out and get ostracised (or worse) by his peers wouldn't fit in with the "It Gets Better" theme. I worry about the teen who watches a series of success stories and then has a not-so-happy ending himself... It may make matters worse. As impractical as it might be, each teen should have someone to help him through coming out, or coming to terms, or whatever is next in his personal path. The average high schooler just isn't really ready to go through a life-changing event by himself. I'm worried about the law of unintended consequences.
I said I won't be searching for further episodes. I'd like to see a success story that parallels my life, but I expect the odds are low. And I don't think I'm the target audience here.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Looking for Adventure?
![]() |
Gwen |
Check out Gwen's brief blog. She's only been posting since January, and it won't take long to go through her twenty or so posts. She starts by re-discovering herself, at FemmeFever on Long Island and from there....
She did something that many of us have done, or are contemplating doing: she came out to her wife after 20+ years of marriage. Her blog is a reality show we can relate to.
In her 22 February entry, she said she might make her blog private for a bit, so you'll have to write and ask her for an invite if you'd like to read on. I think "adventure" is the right word, and I wish her incredible success on her ride.
I'm rooting for her!
Labels:
coming out,
gwentgirl
Monday, February 27, 2012
Inquiring Minds
Are there any cardmodelers among my readers? If so, could you drop me a note, please?
That's all. Fun stuff resumes tomorrow. :)
That's all. Fun stuff resumes tomorrow. :)
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Sunday Punnies
These showed up a few weeks ago in Get Fuzzy. Conley was clearly channeling Pastis (Pearls Before Swine) who does the occasional elaborate Sunday punnie. Make sure you click for the easy-to-read version!
Labels:
Darby Conley,
Get Fuzzy
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Office Fun With Civilians
Tuesday was Mardi Gras. One of the women in the office left beads on everyone's desk. I dutifully put mine on. About half of the office denizens did as well, more women than men. One woman wore them as a bracelet. Some people strung them in their office, or left them on the desk.
I still haven't finished describing my officemates ~ I'll get to that soon. Brief introductions here, as it pertains to the story.
Y, our IT lady, was involved in her work and fairly frowny. I got her to smile and even giggle a bit, joking mostly about the beads. Then I told her "this is not the oddest thing by far I've done for Mardi Gras. I'll try to find a picture for tomorrow."
I dug out the picture I showed here (reprinted in this post) and brought it in to work.
Y was suitably amused, but asked no other questions. She identified me readily, and I told her I had that picture on my desk at a previous assignment for months (true) and no-one said a word about it.
I figured I wasn't done though. I called out to the office Fashionista, K, as she walked past the office. She loved the outfit (and the hat our hostess, right, was wearing).
And another M (if you recall from the "The Office" posts, my office is full of M's; this is one you haven't met yet) came by to chat and I showed her the picture. She asked who the people were; I told her it was a local Democratic group at a Mardi Gras party. She said "so you're not in the picture?" I said "sure I am." She pointed at the guy on the left and said "is that you?" I said no, and pointed to my picture. She looked confused and said "but she looks so pretty." I said "thank you."
Later, she asked if I did my makeup and I told her no, I had someone do it for me. I couldn't do that good a job! (The truth: at the time I couldn't.) I wasn't sure she'd accept the idea of a crossdresser in the office. Y might. K, no. M is from Bangladesh, and I wasn't sure how I would play, culturally.
She also asked if I "do" my eyebrows and I said I did. I told her when I get my haircut I have someone clean up my brows.
I think she's OK with the idea, but a bit confused. I'll keep feeding on her confusion and try to feel her out. I don't know if the office is ready for Meg, but there's one sure way to find out.
I still haven't finished describing my officemates ~ I'll get to that soon. Brief introductions here, as it pertains to the story.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnoB2WxLIirfw2fAvywDSyAW8t2FHbg48IqmSd2TMAQYQ0P2jDYqeWGRmDSHY6JJEaXUsweDt88T7Y7aH_IQ2RcMvSgJRzgKkO_Z9Z8HMwKO9xJfQxkeX548PeUEwVjq3CoSwyNFPNzGZx/s400/mggroup.jpg)
I dug out the picture I showed here (reprinted in this post) and brought it in to work.
Y was suitably amused, but asked no other questions. She identified me readily, and I told her I had that picture on my desk at a previous assignment for months (true) and no-one said a word about it.
I figured I wasn't done though. I called out to the office Fashionista, K, as she walked past the office. She loved the outfit (and the hat our hostess, right, was wearing).
And another M (if you recall from the "The Office" posts, my office is full of M's; this is one you haven't met yet) came by to chat and I showed her the picture. She asked who the people were; I told her it was a local Democratic group at a Mardi Gras party. She said "so you're not in the picture?" I said "sure I am." She pointed at the guy on the left and said "is that you?" I said no, and pointed to my picture. She looked confused and said "but she looks so pretty." I said "thank you."
Later, she asked if I did my makeup and I told her no, I had someone do it for me. I couldn't do that good a job! (The truth: at the time I couldn't.) I wasn't sure she'd accept the idea of a crossdresser in the office. Y might. K, no. M is from Bangladesh, and I wasn't sure how I would play, culturally.
She also asked if I "do" my eyebrows and I said I did. I told her when I get my haircut I have someone clean up my brows.
I think she's OK with the idea, but a bit confused. I'll keep feeding on her confusion and try to feel her out. I don't know if the office is ready for Meg, but there's one sure way to find out.
Labels:
civilians,
coming out,
The Office
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Mum's the Word
Meg (in my dreams) |
My current flannel shirt is a black-and-white gingham, similar to the one here. I picked mine up on freecycle.
My wife pulled out a catalogue with the same shirt and said "look! If I get this we can dress alike."
My college son was there, and he said "dad's wearing a girl's shirt." I said nothing.
But if he took a little look he'd see that the buttons were on the wrong side, and there was a dart for a bust I didn't have (at least at the moment).
I guess critical observation is not a skill they teach at college.
Labels:
crossdress,
underdressing
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Mardi Gras History
(I already used "All On A Mardi Gras Day" for an earlier post on my own Mardi Gras dressup day)
Take a couple of minutes and check out the trailer for the movie "The Sons of Tennessee Williams." It didn't seem to have a lot of box office success, but the story seems fascinating. The film isn't sold everywhere, but it can be purchased from the studio for under $20, and it's available for download on Netflix. The New York Times reviewed it, and Rotten Tomato readers liked it.
I wonder what I would have thought of this as a child. Here were men dressing as women, and in public. They seemed attracted to other men, and I knew pretty early on that I was interested in girls. I wonder if I'd rethink that, the same way I thought I wanted to be a girl when I was young, because I wanted to wear dresses and only girls wore dresses.... So I must want to be a girl.
I wonder what I would have thought of this as a child. Here were men dressing as women, and in public. They seemed attracted to other men, and I knew pretty early on that I was interested in girls. I wonder if I'd rethink that, the same way I thought I wanted to be a girl when I was young, because I wanted to wear dresses and only girls wore dresses.... So I must want to be a girl.
Labels:
drag,
Mardi Gras
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Oh Really? We're Behind Pakistan?
For transgender Pakistanis, newfound rights
By Michele Langevine Leiby, Published: February 10
Last month, they celebrated their most recent victory when they were allowed for the first time to register to vote identifying themselves as a third sex — transgender. In the past, state-issued identification cards listed individuals only as male or female.
The whole article can be found in The Washington Post.
Labels:
pakistan,
transgender rights
Monday, February 20, 2012
Let Me Be Frank. Or At Least Francine
I'm on a journey. But it's a poorly-defined journey. Someone said "just follow that road and you'll get there."
So that's what I'm doing. Except now, someone (same person?) put up a big sign that says "DETOUR" and I think I need to follow the detour. I think the main road is closed.
I've taken detours that are well defined and well lit and get me where I want to go without too much lost time. I've taken detours that are just a sign and it's up to me to figure out how to get back on the main road. I've taken detours that fit somewhere in the middle.
But any time I take a detour, I expect a bumpy road ahead.
So welcome to my detour. I don't know if it'll last a month or six or more. I'll be doing what I do, and writing about it regularly but sometimes I'll be talking about this detour. I think the journey is about to become more interesting and less predictable. And maybe it'll help someone to not make my mistakes when they see that DETOUR sign.
Here's the road leading to the detour:
During a rare dinner with the wife, she brought up the subject of my dressing.
Let me go back a bit more.
On the ride out, she was talking about how she wanted to go to therapy to help her deal with her mother better and asked if I wanted to come along because "it can also help our marriage." I declined. Her mother is in an assisted living facility now and not doing well. I didn't see how that would help our marriage; I'm guessing she was looking at bringing up other topics but....
Anyway, during dinner, she asked if there was anything else I wanted to do with my dressing (she specifically mentioned implants). I said no (specifically to that) because, although I'd like to know what it's like to have breasts I'd be more likely to glue on forms to see how it feels. I told her that. I also said I wasn't interested in hormones (I volunteered that). I also mentioned that I eschew admirers. After I explained what they were, she asked if I had no ties if I would go out with one. I said absolutely not ~ I explained that I had been approached for "just dinner" and although it would be interesting as a girl thing, it was way too dangerous. She dropped the subject.
If she wanted to start a dialogue, I saw no reason to be less than forthcoming, although I did not mention that what I feel is subject to change. I implied it though: in response to her asking if what I enjoyed was dressing or going out (or both) I did mention that what I felt in the past (dressing at home is OK) has changed (now, it's not very satisfying). I mentioned that it's not the sexual thing it once was, and I offered my internal (ts) vs external (tv) ideas.
I just want to mention that, in the past, she has expressed little interest in my clothes, seeing me dressed, or even seeing a picture of me dressed. She has said that she "can't understand" why we'd want to be addressed with female pronouns when dressed.
She also asked if I ever had any "bad experiences" while dressed. I said the worst was a woman stared at me at the mall. I mentioned that most people I know had only good experiences, but others weren't so lucky, and I want to go to this year's Transgender Day of Remembrance dressed, but didn't mention any other plans.
I mentioned going out in Tucson and she asked how many T-people I knew there. I said I spoke with three or four, but haven't met all of them yet. She asked how many I knew locally, and I said I've corresponded with a group I haven't met, and I've met some at clothing swaps ~ I didn't know the number. I mentioned Vanessa, who I had dinner with a few months ago. She said she didn't know about that; I said she did, because I tell her everything. Well, almost. But it's easy to remember the one thing I haven't told her (flying to Kansas).
She acknowledged that it was lonely, hiding what I do. I said "well, that's not going to change, is it?" She thought I meant I wasn't going to change. I corrected that to that "she wouldn't change." She agreed that that wouldn't happen. Ah well.
Then she brought up therapy again so "we could discuss it." I said the last time we went to couples therapy (a brief few visits) I wasn't to talk about it. She said she was inviting me to go with her and talk about it.
This is good. I agreed.
I will be happy to go with her and talk about how I feel, and how unhappy it makes me to hide myself and my stuff and we'll see where this detour leads. I've wanted to talk to her about this for a while, and this is a good opportunity.
I'm looking forward to the detour.
So that's what I'm doing. Except now, someone (same person?) put up a big sign that says "DETOUR" and I think I need to follow the detour. I think the main road is closed.
I've taken detours that are well defined and well lit and get me where I want to go without too much lost time. I've taken detours that are just a sign and it's up to me to figure out how to get back on the main road. I've taken detours that fit somewhere in the middle.
But any time I take a detour, I expect a bumpy road ahead.
So welcome to my detour. I don't know if it'll last a month or six or more. I'll be doing what I do, and writing about it regularly but sometimes I'll be talking about this detour. I think the journey is about to become more interesting and less predictable. And maybe it'll help someone to not make my mistakes when they see that DETOUR sign.
Here's the road leading to the detour:
During a rare dinner with the wife, she brought up the subject of my dressing.
Let me go back a bit more.
On the ride out, she was talking about how she wanted to go to therapy to help her deal with her mother better and asked if I wanted to come along because "it can also help our marriage." I declined. Her mother is in an assisted living facility now and not doing well. I didn't see how that would help our marriage; I'm guessing she was looking at bringing up other topics but....
Anyway, during dinner, she asked if there was anything else I wanted to do with my dressing (she specifically mentioned implants). I said no (specifically to that) because, although I'd like to know what it's like to have breasts I'd be more likely to glue on forms to see how it feels. I told her that. I also said I wasn't interested in hormones (I volunteered that). I also mentioned that I eschew admirers. After I explained what they were, she asked if I had no ties if I would go out with one. I said absolutely not ~ I explained that I had been approached for "just dinner" and although it would be interesting as a girl thing, it was way too dangerous. She dropped the subject.
If she wanted to start a dialogue, I saw no reason to be less than forthcoming, although I did not mention that what I feel is subject to change. I implied it though: in response to her asking if what I enjoyed was dressing or going out (or both) I did mention that what I felt in the past (dressing at home is OK) has changed (now, it's not very satisfying). I mentioned that it's not the sexual thing it once was, and I offered my internal (ts) vs external (tv) ideas.
I just want to mention that, in the past, she has expressed little interest in my clothes, seeing me dressed, or even seeing a picture of me dressed. She has said that she "can't understand" why we'd want to be addressed with female pronouns when dressed.
She also asked if I ever had any "bad experiences" while dressed. I said the worst was a woman stared at me at the mall. I mentioned that most people I know had only good experiences, but others weren't so lucky, and I want to go to this year's Transgender Day of Remembrance dressed, but didn't mention any other plans.
I mentioned going out in Tucson and she asked how many T-people I knew there. I said I spoke with three or four, but haven't met all of them yet. She asked how many I knew locally, and I said I've corresponded with a group I haven't met, and I've met some at clothing swaps ~ I didn't know the number. I mentioned Vanessa, who I had dinner with a few months ago. She said she didn't know about that; I said she did, because I tell her everything. Well, almost. But it's easy to remember the one thing I haven't told her (flying to Kansas).
She acknowledged that it was lonely, hiding what I do. I said "well, that's not going to change, is it?" She thought I meant I wasn't going to change. I corrected that to that "she wouldn't change." She agreed that that wouldn't happen. Ah well.
Then she brought up therapy again so "we could discuss it." I said the last time we went to couples therapy (a brief few visits) I wasn't to talk about it. She said she was inviting me to go with her and talk about it.
This is good. I agreed.
I will be happy to go with her and talk about how I feel, and how unhappy it makes me to hide myself and my stuff and we'll see where this detour leads. I've wanted to talk to her about this for a while, and this is a good opportunity.
I'm looking forward to the detour.
Labels:
coming out,
detour,
therapy
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Well, I Was In The Mood
Since Stana took my Sherman's Lagoon cartoon, I thought I'd dig through the archives and post a few non-crossdressing ones today. Looking back, I see I found three crossdress-related ones that I posted in the past. I wonder if something's going on there....
Click to enjoy the artwork.
Click to enjoy the artwork.
Labels:
sherman's lagoon
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Cilvilians Need an Attitude Adjustment
So they embrace the opportunities open to them. Click for the big picture.
(And a big BOOOOOO to my idol Stana who used the Sherman's Lagoon cartoon I was going to use today! [I'm kidding. I still love you, Stana. )
(And a big BOOOOOO to my idol Stana who used the Sherman's Lagoon cartoon I was going to use today! [I'm kidding. I still love you, Stana. )
Labels:
Baby Blues,
comics,
Kirkman and Scott
Friday, February 17, 2012
Waltzing Ma~
You've probably noticed that I use a tilde (~) in my punctuation. Sometimes it replaces a colon, sometimes a dash ~ it depends on whether it fits or not.
My clothing-swap friend Kim uses it in her e-mail and I thought it looked like a feminine flourish so I started using it in my writing. And I don't just use it here, I use it in other personal e-mails (to friends who do not know about Meg) and at work.
I think it's time to start a movement. If we all started using ~ instead of - or : (where it feels right, of course), we'll have a way to identify more kindred souls. If someone sends you an e-mail which says "don't forget ~ we have a meeting at 11" write back: "that's unusual. I never met anyone else who uses tilde's in their e-mails! Where'd you pick that up?" And if he writes back "Meg uses it in her blog," well, then you know. And maybe it'll soon be a bunch of other t-blogs, but you'll know.
I've been looking for a "secret handshake" and some have proposed things like wearing a rubber band on your wrist on certain days, but if you do, then anyone who knows about that, knows. This is more like a sign/countersign to identify friends or foes in wartime.
Someone: uses tilde
You: cute. Where'd you get the tilde?
Someone: I saw it in [some female name]'s blog
Bingo!
If you're a blogger, and you think this might work, and you're going to add it to your writing, please let me know! I would love for this to spread! I'd feel like I finally made a contribution to our society.
My clothing-swap friend Kim uses it in her e-mail and I thought it looked like a feminine flourish so I started using it in my writing. And I don't just use it here, I use it in other personal e-mails (to friends who do not know about Meg) and at work.
I think it's time to start a movement. If we all started using ~ instead of - or : (where it feels right, of course), we'll have a way to identify more kindred souls. If someone sends you an e-mail which says "don't forget ~ we have a meeting at 11" write back: "that's unusual. I never met anyone else who uses tilde's in their e-mails! Where'd you pick that up?" And if he writes back "Meg uses it in her blog," well, then you know. And maybe it'll soon be a bunch of other t-blogs, but you'll know.
I've been looking for a "secret handshake" and some have proposed things like wearing a rubber band on your wrist on certain days, but if you do, then anyone who knows about that, knows. This is more like a sign/countersign to identify friends or foes in wartime.
Someone: uses tilde
You: cute. Where'd you get the tilde?
Someone: I saw it in [some female name]'s blog
Bingo!
If you're a blogger, and you think this might work, and you're going to add it to your writing, please let me know! I would love for this to spread! I'd feel like I finally made a contribution to our society.
Labels:
coming out,
secret handshake,
tilde
Thursday, February 16, 2012
You Never Know
The other day I was wandering around the local mall (in drab) and I walked through the cosmetics area at Macy's. I thought about asking for a gloss in my shade. I considered Clinique, since they usually have a good product at a reasonable price.
As I approached the counter, I felt nervous. There were three salesladies standing there chatting and I felt uncomfortable so I continued walking by. One greeted me; I returned the greeting but kept walking.
I left the store and wondered why I reacted the way I did. I knew I didn't need more gloss ~ I have a half-dozen or so ~ but I wanted to look and chat with the Clinique lady. So why didn't I?
I don't know, but I decided that I needed to get over it so I walked back in, and I walked straight up to the Clinique clique and said "I'm looking for a lip gloss" to the woman who said "may I help you?"
The other ladies vanished and we walked around to where the gloss was. She asked if I knew what colour I wanted and I said I didn't know, but I was looking for something that was either clear, or would match my lip colour. She looked surprised and said "it's for you?" I said "yes" and she said "so you want a little bit of colour?" I said "no, I want a little bit of shine."
She found a shade that looked like a match (Apricot) and touched a little to her finger and applied it to her wrist. She asked if I'd like to try it on. I said I would, and I put some on my finger and applied it to the right side of my lips, so I could see the difference.
It looked pretty good: a good colour match but not really as much shine as I wanted. But it looked pretty good. I told her I'd take it. She asked if I wanted two; I said I'll start with one and if I like it I'll buy two next time. She laughed and took my money and I was on my way.
I still don't know why I was nervous. I do know that life's better when you're not.
As I approached the counter, I felt nervous. There were three salesladies standing there chatting and I felt uncomfortable so I continued walking by. One greeted me; I returned the greeting but kept walking.
I left the store and wondered why I reacted the way I did. I knew I didn't need more gloss ~ I have a half-dozen or so ~ but I wanted to look and chat with the Clinique lady. So why didn't I?
I don't know, but I decided that I needed to get over it so I walked back in, and I walked straight up to the Clinique clique and said "I'm looking for a lip gloss" to the woman who said "may I help you?"
The other ladies vanished and we walked around to where the gloss was. She asked if I knew what colour I wanted and I said I didn't know, but I was looking for something that was either clear, or would match my lip colour. She looked surprised and said "it's for you?" I said "yes" and she said "so you want a little bit of colour?" I said "no, I want a little bit of shine."
She found a shade that looked like a match (Apricot) and touched a little to her finger and applied it to her wrist. She asked if I'd like to try it on. I said I would, and I put some on my finger and applied it to the right side of my lips, so I could see the difference.
It looked pretty good: a good colour match but not really as much shine as I wanted. But it looked pretty good. I told her I'd take it. She asked if I wanted two; I said I'll start with one and if I like it I'll buy two next time. She laughed and took my money and I was on my way.
I still don't know why I was nervous. I do know that life's better when you're not.
Labels:
Clinique,
coming out,
lip gloss,
macys
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Experimenting
Yesterday, at the office, one of the women walked past my office and said "how did you know I was going to wear the same shirt as you?"
We both had on blue button-down shirts but the similarity ended there. She had different-coloured cuffs and her shirt was quite fitted. So I said "I like your cuffs. Wanna trade?"
She came in and said "that's the only difference. That, and it buttons down the other side." I ran my finger across my side from under my arm to my nipple and said "and this," referring to the dart, which she definitely needed. She said "and that" and turned and left. I think I embarrassed her a bit.
So today, I'm wearing a shirt that buttons down the wrong side. I also have on a silky (probably poly) tank underneath and I left a button open so you can see it peeking through.
Let's see if she (or anyone else) says anything.
Update: I forgot to mention that one of my wife's co-workers, someone we've met with socially on numerous occasions, works in our area. We share a kitchen area, halls, but his area is a secure room; we're outside that room. But I see him on average once or twice a day.
We both had on blue button-down shirts but the similarity ended there. She had different-coloured cuffs and her shirt was quite fitted. So I said "I like your cuffs. Wanna trade?"
She came in and said "that's the only difference. That, and it buttons down the other side." I ran my finger across my side from under my arm to my nipple and said "and this," referring to the dart, which she definitely needed. She said "and that" and turned and left. I think I embarrassed her a bit.
So today, I'm wearing a shirt that buttons down the wrong side. I also have on a silky (probably poly) tank underneath and I left a button open so you can see it peeking through.
Let's see if she (or anyone else) says anything.
Update: I forgot to mention that one of my wife's co-workers, someone we've met with socially on numerous occasions, works in our area. We share a kitchen area, halls, but his area is a secure room; we're outside that room. But I see him on average once or twice a day.
Labels:
camisole,
coming out,
underdressing
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
My Dinner With Andre(a). And More
There's not much to say, other than it's nice to spend time with someone who knows about Meg.
Afterwards, I spent a lot of time thinking about how nice it was to spend time and have a nice dinner together, and how sad it was that there is only a small circle of friends I can do this with.
I think I need to expand that circle, but I'm also keenly aware of the problem Pandora had. I don't consider crossdressing an evil let out on the world, but I do know it won't go back in the box once released.
I think I've reached the point where, if it ever came up, I would 'fess up. For instance, on Friday I left the house without taking a critical look at how I looked. Later, in front of the restroom mirror at work I did. I was wearing a camisole under a polo shirt and although you couldn't see the green-blue lace trim on the front of the turquoise cami, you could easily see the thin straps and adjusters from the back. It was early in the day and I thought of taking it off, but I went through a couple of quick scenarios instead: they started with a variation of "what are you wearing under your shirt?" and the best response would be "a camisole. I usually wear one under my shirt." Any follow-up questions could be answered honestly and move the conversation forward to a possibly uncomfortable but definitely open conclusion. ("Why?" "Because I like the feel.")
Any near-open response could lead to follow-up questions that are not only confrontational instead of conversational, but would make it seem I was hiding something. My "something to keep me warm" could provoke a "what, exactly?" or "I've never seen an undershirt with straps like that." It's hard to follow up without challenging back or seeming embarrassed at being "caught." I'm not interested in challenge; I'm interested in enlightenment. And I'm through hiding.
I'm just through.
Afterwards, I spent a lot of time thinking about how nice it was to spend time and have a nice dinner together, and how sad it was that there is only a small circle of friends I can do this with.
I think I need to expand that circle, but I'm also keenly aware of the problem Pandora had. I don't consider crossdressing an evil let out on the world, but I do know it won't go back in the box once released.
I think I've reached the point where, if it ever came up, I would 'fess up. For instance, on Friday I left the house without taking a critical look at how I looked. Later, in front of the restroom mirror at work I did. I was wearing a camisole under a polo shirt and although you couldn't see the green-blue lace trim on the front of the turquoise cami, you could easily see the thin straps and adjusters from the back. It was early in the day and I thought of taking it off, but I went through a couple of quick scenarios instead: they started with a variation of "what are you wearing under your shirt?" and the best response would be "a camisole. I usually wear one under my shirt." Any follow-up questions could be answered honestly and move the conversation forward to a possibly uncomfortable but definitely open conclusion. ("Why?" "Because I like the feel.")
Any near-open response could lead to follow-up questions that are not only confrontational instead of conversational, but would make it seem I was hiding something. My "something to keep me warm" could provoke a "what, exactly?" or "I've never seen an undershirt with straps like that." It's hard to follow up without challenging back or seeming embarrassed at being "caught." I'm not interested in challenge; I'm interested in enlightenment. And I'm through hiding.
I'm just through.
Labels:
Andrea,
camisole,
coming out
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Play Ball!
Speedbump again. I think this is the eighth appearance. I'm starting to get suspicious.
The joke's kind of forced, but a lot of our fiction is, isn't it?
The joke's kind of forced, but a lot of our fiction is, isn't it?
Labels:
dave Coverly,
speedbump
Friday, February 10, 2012
You Can Get Anything You Want at Alice Rae's
Dorothy has been telling me to visit Alice Rae Fine Intimate Apparel since my first trip to Tucson. I finally made it, although in drab.
My problem with intimate apparel shops is, they're usually outside my price range. I know quality lingerie, like quality wigs, is expensive. I just hate going into a shop where I know I'm out of my price range.
I was looking for serious shapewear. They seem to focus on bras; more on that in a moment.
I made it clear I was looking for items for myself. Terry, who was behind the counter, had no problem with that at all.
I saw one interesting corset ~ it was a heavy material, the better to swear off the inches, and could be put on by one person. There were two rows of eyes for the heavy-duty hooks so as you shrunk your waist you could go to the second set. Terry offered to let me try it on, so I did. She suggested a small might work.
It didn't. I could close one hook on the bottom and that was IT. They had no larger sizes at the moment.
I also tried a shaping camisole, so tight that it had to be pulled up instead of over my head. It did a good job of pulling in my tummy but it also emphasised the fact that I have NO hips at all. Without a bust, I looked like I was stuffed into a sausage wrapping.
Camisoles and shapewear where on racks in the front of the store. As I was looking around I did notice one padded panty, but I forgot to follow up on that. I have one, but it's kind of unsatisfactory and I'd like to try something else, maybe with hip pads as well as butt pads.
I mentioned that I'd like to look for a bra, but I'd need my forms. She pointed out a series of bras that all have pockets for pads. I told her Victoria's Secret measured me and said I was a 42-B but I generally wore a 38-C and closed it to the smallest band I could. She measured me and suggested I might even be a 36, but in that case I'd need a D. (Victoria's Secret doesn't even carry 40 and above and the saleslady tried to sell me a 38, even though she just told me I was a 42.)
Bras seemed to be in the $50 range, which I think is reasonable, even though it's probably twice what I normally pay. I get the double advantage of personal service and helping a small business. I'd rather shop at an Alice Rae than a Victoria's Secret.
It was now approaching closing time and I still had to check in and locate Crossroads, where I had agreed to meet Andrea.
And after I left, I realised I did something really stupid.
Since I hadn't checked in yet, my pads and everything else were in the car. I probably wouldn't try the dress over the pads and new bra (in the shop) but I could have tried on the bra and pads and seen how they fit and how it looked. The store was mostly devoid of customers; it wouldn't have been a big deal since I hadn't hidden what I wanted at all.
Stupid stupid stupid.
Next trip, I'll stop by before I dress if after I dress it'll be too late, and I'll have my pads with me.
My problem with intimate apparel shops is, they're usually outside my price range. I know quality lingerie, like quality wigs, is expensive. I just hate going into a shop where I know I'm out of my price range.
I was looking for serious shapewear. They seem to focus on bras; more on that in a moment.
I made it clear I was looking for items for myself. Terry, who was behind the counter, had no problem with that at all.
I saw one interesting corset ~ it was a heavy material, the better to swear off the inches, and could be put on by one person. There were two rows of eyes for the heavy-duty hooks so as you shrunk your waist you could go to the second set. Terry offered to let me try it on, so I did. She suggested a small might work.
It didn't. I could close one hook on the bottom and that was IT. They had no larger sizes at the moment.
I also tried a shaping camisole, so tight that it had to be pulled up instead of over my head. It did a good job of pulling in my tummy but it also emphasised the fact that I have NO hips at all. Without a bust, I looked like I was stuffed into a sausage wrapping.
Camisoles and shapewear where on racks in the front of the store. As I was looking around I did notice one padded panty, but I forgot to follow up on that. I have one, but it's kind of unsatisfactory and I'd like to try something else, maybe with hip pads as well as butt pads.
I mentioned that I'd like to look for a bra, but I'd need my forms. She pointed out a series of bras that all have pockets for pads. I told her Victoria's Secret measured me and said I was a 42-B but I generally wore a 38-C and closed it to the smallest band I could. She measured me and suggested I might even be a 36, but in that case I'd need a D. (Victoria's Secret doesn't even carry 40 and above and the saleslady tried to sell me a 38, even though she just told me I was a 42.)
Bras seemed to be in the $50 range, which I think is reasonable, even though it's probably twice what I normally pay. I get the double advantage of personal service and helping a small business. I'd rather shop at an Alice Rae than a Victoria's Secret.
It was now approaching closing time and I still had to check in and locate Crossroads, where I had agreed to meet Andrea.
And after I left, I realised I did something really stupid.
Since I hadn't checked in yet, my pads and everything else were in the car. I probably wouldn't try the dress over the pads and new bra (in the shop) but I could have tried on the bra and pads and seen how they fit and how it looked. The store was mostly devoid of customers; it wouldn't have been a big deal since I hadn't hidden what I wanted at all.
Stupid stupid stupid.
Next trip, I'll stop by before I dress if after I dress it'll be too late, and I'll have my pads with me.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Not to Be, It Seems
As I said, I went to bed around 11. I proceeded to wake up around 1 and could NOT fall back to sleep. I finally did, shortly before my alarm went off. That's one strike against Meg going out.
At work, we are in a crunch situation. My staff is expected to put in sixty hour weeks, 10 hours a day, six days a week, for the next couple of weeks. What I didn't know is, I was expected to do the same. On the east coast, they decided our "core hours," when everyone had to be in the office, was from 9 to 5. Well, I have some leeway so I decided the Arizona core hours were 7 to 3. That was better, but I had after-work deadlines:
to get to dinner or services dressed, I had to leave by 3.
to do some shopping (Alice Rae) dressed, I had to leave by 1.
There was no way I could leave before 3. Or at 3. Strike two.
I did get out around 3:30.
Earlier in the day, I decided that services were out (too tired) so I e-mailed Andrea and told her I could meet her around 6:30. I figured anything later and I'd fall asleep at dinner.
On my drive up, I decided that I was just too tired to dress. I could make it to Alice Rae's if I went straight there. I really wanted to go dressed, but I did want to check out this little intimate apparel shop.
On my fourth trip, I finally made it.
At work, we are in a crunch situation. My staff is expected to put in sixty hour weeks, 10 hours a day, six days a week, for the next couple of weeks. What I didn't know is, I was expected to do the same. On the east coast, they decided our "core hours," when everyone had to be in the office, was from 9 to 5. Well, I have some leeway so I decided the Arizona core hours were 7 to 3. That was better, but I had after-work deadlines:
to get to dinner or services dressed, I had to leave by 3.
to do some shopping (Alice Rae) dressed, I had to leave by 1.
There was no way I could leave before 3. Or at 3. Strike two.
I did get out around 3:30.
Earlier in the day, I decided that services were out (too tired) so I e-mailed Andrea and told her I could meet her around 6:30. I figured anything later and I'd fall asleep at dinner.
On my drive up, I decided that I was just too tired to dress. I could make it to Alice Rae's if I went straight there. I really wanted to go dressed, but I did want to check out this little intimate apparel shop.
On my fourth trip, I finally made it.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Travelling Again
As I mentioned, I had another trip to Arizona. It was my shortest trip yet: due to other considerations at work I couldn't go until Wednesday, and due to the fact that I was spending my Meg budget on hotels and meals, I couldn't stay until Sunday.
My suitcase wasn't quite as full as usual. Realistically, the difference between four work overnights and two work overnights is just a shirt and a pair of pants. But Meg's breastforms take up almost half of my case. Add a pair of shoes (two for two days as Meg) and it's easily half. Makeup, jewelry, wig, brush.... It takes a lot of real estate. I think if I was packing for my drab self for those three nights I could have packed in a bowling bag instead of a suitcase that would have to go in the overhead. I check my bag anyway. I don't want to worry about my makeup remover being over three ounces. And I hate lugging a suitcase through the airport.
My plan, as I mentioned a few days ago, was to get out of the office on Friday, drive to Tucson, change, probably go to synagogue again, and meet one of my friends for dinner. I was also eying the casino that was not too far from the hotel. And if could get out early enough, I'd go to Alice Rae's Intimate Apparel. Dorothy has been egging me on ever since we met. Alice Rae's closes at 5:30 which meant an hour before services but I'm sure I could find some additional shopping.
By Thursday night I had gotten rid of my body hair, I tried out (and liked) the lipstick/gloss I brought, and I was ready for Friday night. Since I had to check out in the morning, I packed everything carefully, with my day clothes out and my Meg clothes at the top of the case, and went to bed at around 11 Arizona time. Oddly, I wasn't that tired, even though that was 1am Eastern.
Then things started to fall apart.
My suitcase wasn't quite as full as usual. Realistically, the difference between four work overnights and two work overnights is just a shirt and a pair of pants. But Meg's breastforms take up almost half of my case. Add a pair of shoes (two for two days as Meg) and it's easily half. Makeup, jewelry, wig, brush.... It takes a lot of real estate. I think if I was packing for my drab self for those three nights I could have packed in a bowling bag instead of a suitcase that would have to go in the overhead. I check my bag anyway. I don't want to worry about my makeup remover being over three ounces. And I hate lugging a suitcase through the airport.
My plan, as I mentioned a few days ago, was to get out of the office on Friday, drive to Tucson, change, probably go to synagogue again, and meet one of my friends for dinner. I was also eying the casino that was not too far from the hotel. And if could get out early enough, I'd go to Alice Rae's Intimate Apparel. Dorothy has been egging me on ever since we met. Alice Rae's closes at 5:30 which meant an hour before services but I'm sure I could find some additional shopping.
By Thursday night I had gotten rid of my body hair, I tried out (and liked) the lipstick/gloss I brought, and I was ready for Friday night. Since I had to check out in the morning, I packed everything carefully, with my day clothes out and my Meg clothes at the top of the case, and went to bed at around 11 Arizona time. Oddly, I wasn't that tired, even though that was 1am Eastern.
Then things started to fall apart.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
After Dinner
As it turns out, I didn't get to bed as early as I had hoped. I had my usual after-dressing rush, and rather than aimlessly expend energy in my room while putting off changing, I changed quickly and Aeify and I met to chat some more. For the record, she's very nice and I like her a lot. Aeify, if you're reading, skip that last sentence! :)
Way too early the next morning Aeify and I headed to the airport. We both had flights that connected in Dallas, but hers was somewhat later than mine. I convinced her to change to my flight and we sat together and had another couple of hours of chat and coffee. Time flew while the airplane did the same. The only way it could have been better is if I was dressed. You know what I mean!
But this was good. If I can't spend time as Meg, time with women who know Meg is second best. T-girls are next, very close behind. Guys who know Meg would probably be the next people I'd like to spend time with, but I don't really know any. Then civilians. :)
So I'm still writing about my last trip and I already had another (very short) trip to Arizona. I also have to work ten hour days, six days a week for the next two weeks; we have a hard deadline. I'll do my best to keep writing. I hate missing a day. I like the writing habit, and I hope my muse keeps helping me out.
I thank her every day.
Way too early the next morning Aeify and I headed to the airport. We both had flights that connected in Dallas, but hers was somewhat later than mine. I convinced her to change to my flight and we sat together and had another couple of hours of chat and coffee. Time flew while the airplane did the same. The only way it could have been better is if I was dressed. You know what I mean!
But this was good. If I can't spend time as Meg, time with women who know Meg is second best. T-girls are next, very close behind. Guys who know Meg would probably be the next people I'd like to spend time with, but I don't really know any. Then civilians. :)
So I'm still writing about my last trip and I already had another (very short) trip to Arizona. I also have to work ten hour days, six days a week for the next two weeks; we have a hard deadline. I'll do my best to keep writing. I hate missing a day. I like the writing habit, and I hope my muse keeps helping me out.
I thank her every day.
Labels:
Aeify Perfect
Monday, February 6, 2012
Girls' Night Out
![]() |
Liz caught Dorothy, Meg, and Aeify |
We had five for dinner. Liz asked some friends if they could join us, but no-one could. Maybe next time. I wanted to limit the dinner to eight. I really would prefer to meet each person individually first ~ I can't hear well over background noise so it's hard to follow dinner party conversations unless I'm sitting right next to someone. But if I know something about the other people I can maybe figure out what I couldn't hear and enjoy it more. And, even though Meg isn't quite the introvert I am, she's more comfortable with fewer strangers.
So we had Liz, Dorothy, Andrea (from the hotel), Aeify, and me. And a great time. If you stood us in a line we were gg, tg, gg, tg, gg. That's better than boy-girl-boy-girl any day!
The food was OK, but I didn't really care. I had fun; I hope we all did. Liz sat on my right hand, Aeify on my left. I am now trying very hard not to say how hard it was to eat with someone sitting on each of my hands.
We talked abaout work, and people, and our own little kinks (Liz seemed immune), and a little of everything.
Aeify, Liz, Meg, Dorothy. Andrea didn't want to be seen. |
Labels:
Aeify Perfect,
Andrea,
Dorothy,
Liz
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Placeholder
Hi, friends.
I'm back in Virginia and have a bit to write about (plus what I owe you from the last trip) but I'm recovering for travel, odd schedule, not enough sleep, and a minor car accident.
I'll be back tomorrow, I promise. Enjoy the game tonight, if that's your idea of a good time. :)
I'm back in Virginia and have a bit to write about (plus what I owe you from the last trip) but I'm recovering for travel, odd schedule, not enough sleep, and a minor car accident.
I'll be back tomorrow, I promise. Enjoy the game tonight, if that's your idea of a good time. :)
Friday, February 3, 2012
Friday Night Plans
are completely up in the air.
One thing I understand is having expectations leads to disappointment.
Right now, it seems a perfect storm to keep me in drab tonight.
I went to bed late for Arizona time. I woke early for eastern time, so I'm running on less than five hours of sleep (and caffeine).
Candi, a new friend I just started chatting with, is busy tonight. I haven't heard back from Dorothy. I don't want to bother Liz ~ I feel I take up too much of her time. I'd like to get together with Andrea again, but I think I can do that dressed or drab. I was hoping for t-company tonight.
And work is crazy. We're supposed to be on ten hour days, six days a week, for the next few weeks. My responsibilities changed from getting direction for different stakeholders on up to eight different projects to getting direction from one person and leading a team of five. It does sound easier, but I am now a chokepoint in a project I don't understand yet.
So I don't know if I'm going to get out before two, which is my target for dressing for dinner. I did my preliminaries ~ all body hair that needs to go is gone, nails are trimmed and buffed, I checked that I brought everything with me and my contacts are still under solution. I also spent a bit of time carefully shaping and trimming my brows. Since it was only a few weeks since my last trip I didn't have my "pro" do it. I think I may have overdone it ~ another reason to go out!
Even a 7:00 dinner means I need to be out by 3:30 or so.
I expect a quiet evening catching up on some reading I brought with me and early sleep for an early plane.
At least I have my nightie. And my expectations. I may avoid disappointment yet!
One thing I understand is having expectations leads to disappointment.
Right now, it seems a perfect storm to keep me in drab tonight.
I went to bed late for Arizona time. I woke early for eastern time, so I'm running on less than five hours of sleep (and caffeine).
Candi, a new friend I just started chatting with, is busy tonight. I haven't heard back from Dorothy. I don't want to bother Liz ~ I feel I take up too much of her time. I'd like to get together with Andrea again, but I think I can do that dressed or drab. I was hoping for t-company tonight.
And work is crazy. We're supposed to be on ten hour days, six days a week, for the next few weeks. My responsibilities changed from getting direction for different stakeholders on up to eight different projects to getting direction from one person and leading a team of five. It does sound easier, but I am now a chokepoint in a project I don't understand yet.
So I don't know if I'm going to get out before two, which is my target for dressing for dinner. I did my preliminaries ~ all body hair that needs to go is gone, nails are trimmed and buffed, I checked that I brought everything with me and my contacts are still under solution. I also spent a bit of time carefully shaping and trimming my brows. Since it was only a few weeks since my last trip I didn't have my "pro" do it. I think I may have overdone it ~ another reason to go out!
Even a 7:00 dinner means I need to be out by 3:30 or so.
I expect a quiet evening catching up on some reading I brought with me and early sleep for an early plane.
At least I have my nightie. And my expectations. I may avoid disappointment yet!
Labels:
Candi Dresser,
Dorothy,
going out,
Liz,
Tucson
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Tight Schedule
Between travel and work my writing time is limited. I know I owe you some story. But here's an observation I made a short while ago and haven't shared yet.
I've mentioned that I've been wearing tights pretty regularly this winter.
One thing I noticed is, they are NOT particularly warm. But I wear them under pants daily and when the wind, or just cold air, sweeps past your ankles it feels indescribably nice. It's just unexpected and pleasant.
The other thing, and this might just be me, is the tights become all that is there. This seems to happen on the third day of wearing them ~ I don't have the opportunity on the weekend so that would be Wednesday ~ the pants seem to disappear. I think what happens is, I just lose awareness of the pants rubbing against the tights and it feels like I'm just wearing tights. It feels like when I wear a skirt over tights. The skirt is kind of separate from what you're wearing against your body.
Again, your mileage may vary.
But for me, I like it. It's the next best thing to wearing a skirt to work!
I've mentioned that I've been wearing tights pretty regularly this winter.
One thing I noticed is, they are NOT particularly warm. But I wear them under pants daily and when the wind, or just cold air, sweeps past your ankles it feels indescribably nice. It's just unexpected and pleasant.
The other thing, and this might just be me, is the tights become all that is there. This seems to happen on the third day of wearing them ~ I don't have the opportunity on the weekend so that would be Wednesday ~ the pants seem to disappear. I think what happens is, I just lose awareness of the pants rubbing against the tights and it feels like I'm just wearing tights. It feels like when I wear a skirt over tights. The skirt is kind of separate from what you're wearing against your body.
Again, your mileage may vary.
But for me, I like it. It's the next best thing to wearing a skirt to work!
Labels:
tights
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Majority Rules
Right now I'm swamped and don't have time to do my next "trip" post, which is dinner with the ladies. There are still two posts for that trip, and today I'm heading back to Arizona.
I'll be in the office this afternoon, putting in a full day tomorrow, and hopefully getting out midday on Friday. My plan: drive to Tucson, change, shop, synagogue (why not?), dinner with someone, I hope, and back to Virginia Saturday morning. I can't spend an extra day in Arizona this time: it's taking a toll on my "Meg" budget.
Anyway, I've packed light ~ well relatively light. Meg still takes most of my luggage space. The breast forms, properly packed, and shoes take half of my bag. I'm bringing only the makeup I need ~ not like last time. And just two pair of earrings and bracelets, just because I haven't made up my mind and they don't take a lot of space really. I do have two pair of tights, because they're different enough that I need to decide what to wear. One is grey with a pattern; the other is black with vertical stripes. The stripe pair are not for work: the non-black part is mesh, not material.
And my only outfit is the black and white dress. My readers have spoken! I actually like the block one best, but I have little sense of style.
While I'm rambling, I'll leave you with a lesson learned:
I have decided I like lip gloss, and it is now part of my daily routine.
I switched from "clear" lip gloss to gloss that is basically my colour.
The picture here was taken in the little cafe across from my hotel in Sierra Vista. I put on my gloss before breakfast, and expected to freshen it after I went back to my room, before heading to the office.
When I looked at the cup ~ surprise!
Before I finished my meal, I wiped off the cup. I didn't want the staff to think I had been given a cup with lipstick on it!
At work in Arizona, I use a styrofoam cup. Yes, I leave lip marks on it. No, I don't much care. I also stopped cleaning the mugs at the restaurant. If anyone looks and says anything, I'll say "it's OK. It's mine."
Why the heck not.
I'll be in the office this afternoon, putting in a full day tomorrow, and hopefully getting out midday on Friday. My plan: drive to Tucson, change, shop, synagogue (why not?), dinner with someone, I hope, and back to Virginia Saturday morning. I can't spend an extra day in Arizona this time: it's taking a toll on my "Meg" budget.
Anyway, I've packed light ~ well relatively light. Meg still takes most of my luggage space. The breast forms, properly packed, and shoes take half of my bag. I'm bringing only the makeup I need ~ not like last time. And just two pair of earrings and bracelets, just because I haven't made up my mind and they don't take a lot of space really. I do have two pair of tights, because they're different enough that I need to decide what to wear. One is grey with a pattern; the other is black with vertical stripes. The stripe pair are not for work: the non-black part is mesh, not material.
And my only outfit is the black and white dress. My readers have spoken! I actually like the block one best, but I have little sense of style.
While I'm rambling, I'll leave you with a lesson learned:
I have decided I like lip gloss, and it is now part of my daily routine.
I switched from "clear" lip gloss to gloss that is basically my colour.
The picture here was taken in the little cafe across from my hotel in Sierra Vista. I put on my gloss before breakfast, and expected to freshen it after I went back to my room, before heading to the office.
When I looked at the cup ~ surprise!
Before I finished my meal, I wiped off the cup. I didn't want the staff to think I had been given a cup with lipstick on it!
At work in Arizona, I use a styrofoam cup. Yes, I leave lip marks on it. No, I don't much care. I also stopped cleaning the mugs at the restaurant. If anyone looks and says anything, I'll say "it's OK. It's mine."
Why the heck not.
Labels:
coming out,
lip gloss,
poll
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